


pb&j

by megamegaturtle



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Cute, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Outside the Love Square, maybe angst?, mostly cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11925876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megamegaturtle/pseuds/megamegaturtle
Summary: Outside the love square drabble series.Sometimes people just go together like peanut butter and jelly. Perfectly.





	1. patterns and baselines

**Author's Note:**

> Ninette

They find themselves together as they tread towards the edge of the crowd. More like run away, more like scramble, more like–well, escape. It’s a party for a distant classmate. Drinking is involved with loud music blaring in the background. 

Their shoulders knock into the other’s as they both reach for the door handle and both pause in stunned silence before grinning wide. 

“After you,” Nino says. 

Marinette smiles and nods, pushing the door open to let the cool air hit their faces. 

Little do they know that by stepping over the threshold, they closed doors they thought would always remain open. 

(They realize later that open doors are much better.) 

* * *

They’re nestled in a crook of a cafe somewhere between mainstream and indie. A mix of both, a quiet place out of the way that is only mildly pretentious. 

Marinette scribbles in her sketchbook, Nino mixes beats on his laptop. both just wanted some company, that’s all. 

They’re two friends after all stuck in Paris when everyone travels elsewhere: Alya, London. Adrien, New York. 

Broken hearts can stick together.

Less broken with the other, less empty with the sound they don’t say. 

It’s a spark of a new idea that simmers under their skin, burning their fingertips to create, wanting nothing more than to just be them.

* * *

They wake up with good mornings–pictures of sunlight sliding between the blinds of his rooms, the curtains of hers. Exchanging ideas in scattered text messages as they work across the city from the other. 

It’s nice, the ongoing story they write together, one of music samples and snapshots of designs. Sometimes they forget to actually send words, just send new things. 

A happy beat to praise a lovely dress. A drawing of jacket lined with music beats to express trendiness. Humorous  _wont-wont_ when something can be improved. An interpretation of messy skirts when a song isn’t just right. 

Sometimes she writes a lyric to what she thinks will complete the song, sometimes too long and clunky, but heartfelt and– 

–he answers by sending her fabrics and colors and interesting finds to emphasize her designs.

(They’re perfect.)

* * *

He’s there in the front row at her first fashion showcase, she’s there at the stage screaming when he headlines. 

They’re interweaving effortlessly, never asking the other to be there, but somehow, some way, they’re exactly where they always need to be.

A hug when work sucks.

A movie when a date sucks.

A text in the middle of the night reassuring the other that it’s okay to be heartbroken over the jerk that left for across the sea.

They migrate and circle and fall into step into what becomes a dance–

What do you call it?

Oh yes, love.

* * *

Neither one says it, the first day they realize it, that they love each other. They’re just sprawled in her living room as Marinette leans against Nino's shoulder, drawing a new dress. Nino, himself, is writing another song. 

Maybe it’s the moment, maybe they can hear the way their hearts sound when the other is near, maybe it’s a lot of things, but

Marinette lifts her head and Nino gazes at her, caught in this moment at how stunning she looks when she smiles at him.

He leans down and she reaches up, grinning, happy, quietly–

Sharing true love’s first kiss.

(Maybe it’s not made of fairy tales and magic, maybe it’s not because fate tossed them together and maybe it’s not because of a lot of things.

But it’s true because they chose it. It’s real because they want. Iit’s theirs because they made it.)


	2. scarfs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ways to say "i love you": too quick, mumbled through a scarf. Chlonette.

Thick winter air blankets them with frosty chills and quick sunsets. They cuddle close to each other, hand in hand, as rays fade into deep indigo, stars only powered by electricity remain.  

Chloe has grown taller over the years, more slender, more sleek. But her heart has softened too, kinder than before as she walks Marinette home with their fingers interlinked. 

Theirs is a journey that began as blistering as dawn’s fire to cooling as night’s moonbeams. They began as opposition, but like a solar eclipse, they crossed paths and never stopped looking back.

It took just a little understanding. 

(Okay, a lot of understanding.)

Marinette’s house comes into view as they slow down, their footsteps soft echoes by her back door. 

“Well, as you can see, I’ve been a good girlfriend and walked you home,” Chloe declares with pride. 

She stands straighter, waiting for her expected praise. 

Marinette rolls her eyes. “Chlo, I walk you home nine times out of ten.” 

She huffs, pouting. “It’s not a contest, love.” 

Marinette shakes her head but throws her arms around her girlfriend with affection. Chloe’s laughter rings in her ears as her perfume lulls her into a moment of familiarity. It’s mundane, it’s perfect, it’s–

“–I love you,” Marinette mumbles into her scarf.

She says it so easily, as if it is breathing, but in some regards, it is. Loving Chloe comes as naturally as breathing, as accepting that sun rises and sets, that her days are defined by moments Chloe’s presence and absence. 

Marinette stills when realization catches up with meaning, her face turning bright red. She lets go awkwardly, her arms hanging at her side. 

Chloe doesn’t seem to have heard her. “Marinette?” 

She gulps, Chloe’s icy eyes freezing her where she stands. Her heart hammers in her chest, warm and loud against her ribs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” she shouts.

She jumps up to her tiptoes and presses a quick kiss to Chloe’s mouth, not even leaving time for her to kiss her back. Just a quick kiss caught on words of concern before she swiftly turns away and slams the door. 

Marinette leans against the door and slides down, forehead to her knees as she crouches in her family’s foyer. One breath, then two. 

Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she sees that she has one new message from Chloe. 

_I love you too_

Marinette is positive that she’s smiling brighter than the sun, her heart melting as she scrambles to open the door once again to chase after the girl who captured her heart.


End file.
